


Moments in times

by Echo_star



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_star/pseuds/Echo_star
Summary: post finale thunderblink moments





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Finale was.... I’m speechless but in such a good way

It’s late but no one can sleep. Between the lack of beds and blankets as well as the events of the day, the mood of the underground is sombre.

The idea that the underground is dying, that such a core aspect to their lives is doomed to fail. That’s terrifying. The fact their former HQ is basically dust? That’s the cherry on the proverbial tombstone.

The way station is eerily quiet. Not silent, but there’s no voices, no laughter. Just the low shuffle as someone moves around or an occasional sob that breaks the silence. It’s Too quiet, even for John.

“You should go inside. It’s cold out here” John said as he stared up at the stars, slowly rubbing Clarices arm. Neither could stomach the mood that looms over the underground. When John had decided to take the first night watch, he hadn’t expected any company. Though no matter how much he tried, he hadn’t been able to convince Clarice to leave. 

“Give it up Proudstar. It’s not like I’d have a bed anyway” she mumbled, wrapping her arms tighter around him. 

John shifted so she was closer to him, glancing down at where her head was nestled against his shoulder. It really didn’t look comfortable. “You shouldn’t have given your bed away then” He teased lightly. He hadn’t been surprised to find out she’d donated her bed.

Clarice turned, burying her face to rest against him. “3 people are not meant to fit on one of those beds. Besides the mother looked exhausted. Sharing a bed with two kids wasn’t exactly helping her.” 

Turning he looked back up at the stars, wondered how many other people out there were in a similar situation. Was there really no hope? Together he and Lorna had slowly made a change, was all their work for nothing? 

Feeling Clarice shiver again, the cold bite in the air cooling her skin further he gently pushed her away.

“What’s wrong?” She asked Her distinctive green eyes looking around alert before gazing up at him inquisitively. 

“Is it pointless if I try to convince you to go inside again?” John asked, watching as another slow shiver wracked her body. 

“Definitely pointless. Do you want to be alone?” Clarice spoke through her chattering teeth, as she moved further back from him.

Bridging the gap between them, he let his hand fall to lie beside hers. Moving slowly he lets his fingers entwine with hers, thumb stroking her wrist. Doesn’t like seeing her unsure. Not about them.  
“No. But I’d rather you didn’t freeze to death sitting out here” He comments drily as he feels how icy her hand is. 

Clarice tilts her head, studying him “so your concerned for my health? So if I wasn’t cold you would stop telling me to go inside?”

As her face takes on a cheeky grin, John cant keep the humour out of his voice as he says “ Yeah. That about sums it up.”

Her hand slips from his grasp as she creates a small portal. On the other side he can see a the small pile of blankets put aside for those who may need them, leftovers from those who had left. 

Glancing up at her exhalation of achievement, she’s holding a thick blanket. Dropping it beside him she moves closer to reclaim her previous spot against his side “so your not going to be all heroic and tell me to go inside” she pauses emphasising the “again, right?” 

Needing her close after today, to finally let himself feel some of those suppressed emotions all the while hoping it’s all ‘real’, he murmured, voice low “come ‘ere.” He reached forward, moving the hair which was covering her eyes.

Eyes wide, Clarice moved closer. His gaze shifted to her lips, and he smiled abashed as hers flickered to his. As she moved closer, he lets his nose drift across her cheek, hiding his grin at her small gasp. Before anything else could happen he picked her up, moving her so could lay back against him, her head resting on his chest, her legs draped over his

“That wasn’t as fun as what I was expecting” Clarice said, tilting her head up so she could look up at him.

Trying to suppress his smirk he asked innocently “oh what were you expecting? I did promise to make sure you were warm.” He wrapped the blanket tighter around her, blocking any cold air from reaching her. 

Clarice just shook her head, whatever they are is still too New, too innocent and entirely too breakable for her to do much else. Instead she changes the subject “are you always this warm? Your basically a heater.”

Unable to hold back his smile, one that seems to be permanent when she’s around “yeah pretty much. It’s one of the benefits.”

When she doesn’t respond he listens as her breathing evens out as sleep steals her away from him. Looking up at the stars he thinks about how he’s been her shield and her bed. She’s been there for him, held him as he dealt with loss after loss. How he doesn’t mind. Her weight is a comfort as he stares out into the night, ready to protect them from anyone out there who wants to harm them.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s in moments like this. When the night is silent and they are shrouded in darkness, they exist. Just them. In this space there’s no room for the underground. No room for sentinel services, nor for the hellfire club. 

The room is dark around them, but for the dim glow of moonlight that casts shadows across the bed. They lay beside each other, legs entwined with his arms holding her close. Clarices hand lays spread across his heart, the steady beat soothing.

The past month has been... hectic, to say the least. But they made it. Together. They were reestablishing the Underground. A new building, some new friends but with the familiarity of those who stayed on. 

They are a team. Their habits forming like they had always existed. Each morning there’s a cup of coffee waiting for her and he always finds a snack nearby; an apple or whatever they have on hand at the time. 

There’s still walls, still barriers to let down. Some days they take things slow, hesitant to risk breaking something so precious. Other days they charge through those walls, not willing to waste a moment in a world where they never know which moment may be their last. 

Clarice let her hands roam, his warm skin smooth under her fingers. Every day the urge to touch him grows, whether it’s brushing her fingers against his when they are beside each other or running her fingers through his hair when the stress weighs on him. To know he’s alive and here. That she’s not alone, not anymore. 

Her hands trace his chest, drifting down to feel the ridges of his abs before retracing her steps and moving up to stroke the harsh line of his jaw. 

Looking up his eyes are closed as he leans into her touch. His face is peaceful, almost serene. It feels good to know that she’s done that. That she helps him. 

Grinning she leans forward, her eyes drifting shut as she presses a soft kiss to his jaw, her lips partially brushing his before pulling back. 

She feels his hand shift, gliding from her back, up her side to rest against her cheek. Leaning into his hand she looks up at his face to see his eyes open and watching her. 

Caught in his gaze, his brown eyes are soft and his lips are tilted in a lazy smile.  
There’s no where else she’d rather be than right here, beside him. 

She feels her chest tightening as an unnamed emotion fills her. She feels her throat tighten and her stomach goes into freefall. This man who looks at her like she’s the most important thing, in a world full of hate. Like she means something.

It’s a feeling that’s grown steadily, since she first laid her eyes on him. It had been like a spark, an inexplicable pull towards the guy with the warm eyes in the midst of chaos. As she’s learned more about him, grown to know him, she admires what he stands for. How he cares about everyone. Even her. 

It’s a feeling that makes everything seem brighter, like as long as he’s there she will be okay. No matter what. 

The words hover on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows them down. Hesitant to breach that wall, unsure what ghosts may haunt them, she whispers into the silence another truth. 

“You make me happy. Happier than I can ever remember being.” 

She doesn’t look up, it’s only been a few weeks since their first kiss but so much has happened. Through every step of it she’s felt wanted, like she matters. With him she feels like she belongs. But It doesn’t make baring her heart any easier. Not when she’s trying to say something so important. 

His hand tilts her face so he can see her eyes, and as their gaze connects Clarice feels that unnamed emotion, feels it as it tightens her chest and steals her breath. 

“You make me happy too.” he grins before continuing “Even when you steal my favorite shirts.” 

Smiling she asks “and your jackets?”

He chuckles softly before nodding “and my jackets.”

As he leans forward, Clarice meets him half-way wanting to show him everything she can’t yet say. It starts gentle, a slight brush of lips before the spark catches, enflaming them both. Her hands move to clutch at his back, holding him close as their lips dance.

When the need for air forces them to part, she buries her face against his neck. Pressing soft kisses to his neck as she fights for air. 

As they both calm, they hold each other. Savor their night until they face the issues of reality in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah this is so old. One of many one shots buried away in my phone :)

Is it late? It feels late or too goddamn early. Clarice ducks her head to conceal yet another yawn. She glances down at Zingo, all curled up under the chair, as she rhythmically combs her fingers through the dog’s shaggy fur. 

 

Glancing surreptitiously to the clock on the wall, she blearily tries to focus on its hands. It’s one- no two in the morning. 

 

Just the thought of how little sleep she will have tonight and the long day ahead of them tomorrow makes her yawn audibly. She attempts to stifle it, faking a cough, but the two men in front of her pause their conversation and turn to look at her.

 

“You alright Clarice?” Shatter asks, a concerned look on his face.

 

 John looks faintly amused, despite his obvious exhaustion. 

"How about we continue this tomorrow? I’m sure we could all use a break. It’s been a long day.” 

 

She wants to protest, what they're doing right now, planning and strategizing, it's important. With Lorna having joined the freaky triplets and Marcos neck deep in being sad, she’s needed. But damnit she’s tired: she’d been shot at, dealt with the Frosts and their mind games, watched a friend rip a plane from the sky, and found out that everything she’s known since joining the underground has been destroyed, all in twenty four hours. 

 

Not to mention she’s kind of... nervous. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘I-don’t-know-what’s-going-to-happen-next-what-do-I-do’ kind of way. Everyone's feeling that way but mainly she is unsure about where she will sleep when the meeting ends.

 

The bed situation is dismal at best. It’s not like they had the opportunity to bring supplies and this place is a way station. A safe place for a few people to stop on their journey. It's not equipped for an entire mainstay of people. She’s actually pretty sure there aren’t any beds left and she was present when Shatter called dibs on the couch. So, the floor it is then.

 

“You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

 

Clarice is pulled from her delightfully depressing introspection by the sound of his voice and notices that Shatter's gone, he probably went to go check the guards. Looking up into eyes of brown Clarice sees John's worry, it's evident on his face. 

"You okay? You spaced out a bit." And in his voice. 

 

"Yeah, just tired." She replies softly, using the heel of her palm to rub her eyes. 

 

"Don't worry, I saved a sleeping bag for you." Well that takes care of that concern. 

 

"What about you soldier? You need to rest too."

 

“I can get by on less sleep. Unlike some people.” He says pointedly, his playful smile returning to his face. 

 

“I’d take offence, but honestly I’m beyond exhausted. However, you need to sleep too. We all need you at the top of your game.” 

 

The smile falls as the pensive look returns. 

"You're right.” 

 

She doesn’t want to be. Clarice mentally kicks herself for bringing up the underlying pressure. He knows they all need him, knows he needs to be at 100%, being unprepared can lead to catastrophe. Clarice wriggles, anxious to escape the chair that’s suddenly become a blackhole. 

 

"Clarice, it's okay" He says gently as he extends his hand to her. She grins and takes in. 

 

As she places her hand in his, she marvels at its warmth as his fingers caress her wrist. His hand tightens imperceptibly on hers and then, with a gentle tug, she’s standing in front of him. 

 

She’s about to say something, anything to rid the underlying sadness from his eyes, but she loses that train of thought as she registers the lack of distance between them. They are close together, as close as they were earlier when she kissed him. 

 

Everything had happened so fast after it, that neither have had time to process yet. But, something feels different, like that first ‘do you like me hurdle’ has been conquered. And you don’t look at someone the way he's looking at her unless you like them, right? 

 

Insecurity brings a light flush to her cheeks, she looks up into the steady focus and intensity of his eyes before biting her lip and turning her head, breaking eye contact. Internally she rolls her eyes at herself, this is John, she shouldn't feel embarrassed. It definitely hadn’t been a one-sided kiss. 

 

She takes a small step to the side and away from the couch, putting a little bit of distance between them and snapping him out of the same trance she had been under.

"Where's that sleeping bag?" 

 

Securely holding her hand in his John gently guides Clarice along to the west end of the way station, along the wall. There's a little nest of sorts in the corner, a stack of broken down cardboard boxes pad the cold ground and the sleeping bag atop that. 

 

Clarice smiles looking at the nest that he'd built, for himself, for her, for them? She turns to face him grinning. Despite what little supplies they have, he had managed to make their endless amount of nothing into an area that looked at least slightly comfortable.

 

* * *

 

 

“So what insanely early time do we need to-" She cuts off as his free hand cups her jaw. A blush steals across her cheeks, as she is subjected to the intensity of his gaze, the uncharacteristic display of shyness makes him wonder what she’s thinking. Clarice is never anything but upfront with her thoughts. 

 

She’s asking about tomorrow but he doesn’t want to think about that, tomorrow heralds a new slew of problems that will need addressing, rather he wants to focus on the here and now, with her. He wants to be in the moment with his fingers caressing her face, the heat in her cheeks seeping into his skin. John pushes any thoughts of the underground and his guilt over Sonya to the back of his mind. He looks into her eyes, searching for a sign, any sign she wants this- them. 

 

He hears her gasp softly as she leans into him. It’s good enough. He moves slowly. Slow enough that she can pull away if she isn’t ready, she doesn’t. As her eyes close, he gives in to the urge to kiss her. Their lips touch and it’s everything he wants, everything he hadn’t thought he could have. 

 

As her lips move under his, her fingers curl into his shirt pulling him closer, his heart constricts like a vice in his chest and he realizes that he could've lost her today. John forcibly relaxes when he realizes that he's gripping her waist tightly. 

 

 They’re on the same page somehow, having not had the opportunity to discuss the evolution of their relationship, she wants him and he wants her. It's a new realization for John, not needing to feel guilty for wanting her, for letting them- himself have someone to love in this terrible world. 

 

Pausing, he pulls away slightly, breaking the kiss and absentmindedly strokes the back of his left hand over her cheek. He doesn’t love her... does he? John watches as her bright green eyes open and she blinks up at him. He thinks she’s a good person- a great person, she never fails to make him smile, and he's drawn to her personality like a moth to a flame, but love? 

 

Clarice smiles up at him as her hands slide down his chest moving to settle on his forearms and he is drawn, seemingly magnetically, back down to her mouth. His fingers gently cup her jaw and lightly tangle in the black to purple gradient hair covering her ears. 

 

"Goodnight." John whispers against her lips, releasing his grasp on her.

 

"Don't." Clarice breathes out. John looks down at her, surprised. "Let's just sleep, we're both exhausted." Nodding in response he led them both to the den he'd previously prepared. 

 

Clarice shrugged off her jacket before settling into the sleeping bag. He felt like he should leave her, didn’t want to risk rushing anything too fast. Not when the memory of Dreamer was so raw in both of their minds. Not to mention the impact it had on hers. But when she smiled invitingly at him whilst moving closer to one side to make room for him, he threw his caution to the wind and lay down beside her, leaving enough space between them to remain respectable.

 

That space lasted barely a minute. Where he was thinking about how much he wanted to move closer to her, stroke the hair from her face where it was covering her latest mark, she made the first move.  Clarice watched him as she moved her hand to brush his chest before moving around to his back. The still sore wounds from where he had taken the bullets for her. The pain was nothing, a bare tinge. Nothing compared to the pain he had a feeling he would feel if he lost her.

 

He kisses her. Her hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt as their lips brush. Again, and again. His hands hold her face, stroking the mark from where he almost lost her the last time. The thought is like a bucket of cold water, how fragile she is compared to him.

 

Reluctantly letting go of her face, he lets his arms wrap loosely around her. Her smile as she leans in to press a soft kiss to his jaw relaxes him, reminds him of the here and now. Reminds him that despite how violent the world currently is, it is still filled with so much Love, laughter and joy.


End file.
